Heresy
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: It wasn't that the Ihan-rii wished harm upon the Tal'darim that made them dangerous. It was that for almost all intents and purposes, they WERE the Tal'darim. Or at least, how the Tal'darim had once been...


**Heresy**

Looking at the Observer feed, Highlord Alarak of the Tal'darim wasn't sure how to feel.

The Observer in question was situated 240 miles above Tyrador IX's surface, and was providing him with exquisite detail as to what was going on said surface, just as it had shown him what had happened in space up to this point. Namely, the arrival of the Ihan-rii. His eyes twinkled as he watched the feed of them slaughtering the terrans on the surface, claiming "their" homeworld from the interlopers who had arrived in this region of space mere centuries ago. In one eye shone gratification – he had no love for Tyrador, or the terrans who'd denied him and the Death Fleet justice against the so-called Defenders of Man. In the other eye shone jealousy – the Ihan-rii had accomplished what the Death Fleet hadn't. Jealousy didn't become him – he was the leader of his people, the apex of the Chain of Ascension – but jealousy was what he felt regardless. So gratification and jealousy kept him upon his throne as he watched the spectacle unfold.

Originally, it had been on the verge of a three-way battle. Terran-controlled zerg had attacked the planet for reasons he and his ascendants couldn't fathom. The planet's defenders had tried to stem the tide, but failed, as terrans so often did. Then, out of warp space, emerged great ships of stone, bearing the style and markings of the xel'naga. In that moment, watching from the same Observer he was watching through now, Alarak had felt fear. He'd seen Ulnar. He'd fought against the forces of a xel'naga on Aiur, and for all their might (and, granted, the might of his kindred tribes), the Tal'darim had barely succeeded. If any xel'naga remained in this universe or any other, it was a presence he had little enthusiasm for.

Only they hadn't emerged. Protoss had. Fanatics who called themselves the Ihan-rii – a name the Firstborn had once called the xel'naga by. "Great Teachers." Only they hadn't 'taught' the universe anything other than the fact that they existed, and were willing to eradicate the zerg that were covering "their" homeworld. And, once that was done, eradicate any alien life that blighted the planet's surface. In this case, the terrans, and their defenders. The "Knights of Tyrador."

Alarak zoomed in on the feed, looking at the human warriors' insignia. It looked like a horse (a strange alien creature that they'd brought from their homeworld, according to Fourteenth Ascendant S'cree), only it had a horn sticking out of its head. Kind of like the horned mammals that swam Tyrador IX's seas. He zoomed back out and continued to watch the slaughter unfold. Those creatures would likely be left alive when the Ihan-rii were done. Question was, what happened afterwards?

"Alarak."

He barely heard the telepathic burst, so focused was he on the carnage being displayed in front of him. What would happen after the Ihan-rii had taken their homeworld, he wondered? How would the Dominion react? The Daelaam? What, if any role, would the Tal'darim play?

"Alarak!"

His eyes flashed, as this time, the telepathic burst caught his attention. He deactivated the Observer feed in front of his throne and beheld the underlings approaching him. First Ascendant Ji'nara, accompanied by a quartet of supplicants. His eyes blazed away at them, and for a moment, there was a stumble in Ji'nara's step. She'd woken the omhara, and it was hungry.

"My highlord," she said, giving a small bow. "I do beg your pardon for this interruption, but I-"

"No."

She looked up at him. "Pardon?"

"Do not beg, Ji'nara, it does not become you." Alarak got up from his throne and walked over to her. "Your foes may beg. The supplicants behind you may beg. But I expect you to keep your head high and serve as befits your station."

"Of course, highlord." Her eyes twinkled.

"And I also expect this interruption to be worthy of my time."

The twinkle in the eyes faded.

_I preferred it when you wore the helmet, _Alarak reflected, as he watched her hand over a crystal to him. "What is this?" he asked.

"A h'tal crystal, highlord. It is used for-"

"I know what it is, Ji'nara, I want to know what…" He trailed off, the crystal in his right hand, his left in a fist. He glanced at the supplicants behind the first ascendant. "You. Leave us."

They bowed and departed in the silence that befit their station. Alarak didn't watch them leave the bridge of the _Shal'tharak _before turning around and walking back to his throne. He heard Ji'nara's footsteps following his, and likewise, sensed her presence, even as she kept her thoughts masked.

"I see you've been observing the feeds from Tyrador," Ji'nara ventured.

"Such sound observation Ji'nara. Perhaps I should send you on a deep-space mission. Let you use that brain of yours in ways that serve the Tal'darim."

There was a crackle of psionic energy behind him, but Alarak paid little heed. He inserted the crystal into a socket built into a throne, before sitting down in it to see an image on display. One of green jungle, blue sky, and brown dirt. Not unlike Aiur, but clearly not – far too verdant for that.

"This was sent to us from our colony on Sha'hak," Ji'nara said.

"Sha'hak," Alarak mused. "I wonder how they…" He trailed off, as he saw the sight the feed was showing. Tal'darim structures, all in ruins, clearly destroyed by high energy weapons. And around them, Tal'darim bodies. The very old. The very young. And those everywhere in-between. Slaughtered, and given the manner of their deaths, by protoss weapons.

"**This is a message for the false leader who calls himself highlord."**

Alarak glanced at Ji'nara. She glanced at him. He glanced back, and saw a face fill the screen. A protoss of grey flesh and turquoise eyes, wearing armour that looked like stone.

_An Ihan-rii?_

"**I speak for the Ihan-rii – those who have retaken Kelnar, and removed it of heretics."**

_Kelnar? Do they mean Sha'hak?_

"**Your taint has been removed, but the universe does not abide injustice. You have served a false god, one who betrayed the Great Teachers. You have dishonoured the name of Tal'darim – the servants of old who served our Makers. You, who call yourselves Forged, shall be unmade."**

_He's like a Khalai. He never stops talking._

"**Know that the day of reckoning is upon you. Know that the Ihan-rii have returned. Know that-"**

With telekinesis, Alarak removed the crystal from the throne. It hovered in the air for a moment before he sent it flying into Ji'nara's hands. For a moment, silence lingered between the two of them.

"Well. The Ihan-rii certainly know how to talk, at least."

It was Alarak who spoke first.

"And obviously they have enough firepower to slaughter a grand total of…how many of our people were on Sha'hak?"

"Twenty-six."

"Hmm." Alarak got to his throne. "Well, clearly we'll need to reconsider the business of finding a new homeworld, let alone colonies being established outside the range of the Death Fleet." He walked over to one of the crystal-glass windows that separated the throne room from the vacuum of space. "That will be all, Ji'nara."

"Highlord?"

"Must I repeat myself? I said go. You have much to redeem yourself for after your failures with Nova Terra, and I've yet to be convinced that you're worthy of the mantle of first ascendant."

"Alarak."

Alarak's eyes flickered as Ji'nara walked over to him. "Do you mean to challenge me to Rak'Shir? I will admit, the thought of killing you does carry some appeal, but then all those ascendants will have to move up the chain, and it's all so bothersome, and…" He trailed off and looked at her. _Actually _looked at her. Seeing the way she carried herself. The concern in her eyes.

"Fine," he said. "Let's hear it. Voice your fears, mewl like a youngling, make me long for the vacuum of space, where it's quiet at least."

Ji'nara's eyes dimmed, before she murmured, "surely you intend to take this seriously?"

"What? Your challenge to me?"

"The Ihan-rii. The threat."

"Threat?" Alarak exclaimed. He chuckled, and returned his gaze to space. "A group of fanatics who eliminate a fledging colony are no threat to us."

"But they-"

"No," he said. "The Ihan-rii are beneath me. They worship dead creatures as if they were gods. They forget that I've killed one of their gods-"

"Technically a false god," Ji'nara piped up.

"…and that the universe has moved on," Alarak said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his subordinate. "The Tal'darim served a god before we broke his shackles, and we're stronger for it. If the Ihan-rii bind themselves to the chains of blind faith, then they'll be strangled. Besides, they've already attacked the Terran Dominion. With any luck, the humans will wipe them out for us."

"And if they don't?" Ji'nara asked. "If they blunder around and attack us as well? Certainly they have reason to."

Alarak scoffed. "I never thought you'd have sympathy for primitives Ji'nara, was I wrong? Have your failures against the Ghost humiliated you that much?"

Ji'nara lowered her gaze, remaining silent.

"Well?" Alarak snapped. "Because you should be humiliated. Two-hundred and thirteen years you've walked this galaxy, and you let a child best you. _Twice_! She dishonoured you, she dishonoured the Tal'darim, and in doing so, dishonoured me."

Ji'nara met his gaze again. "Alarak, the Ihan-rii are-"

"Do not shift this to the Ihan-rii Ji'nara. Your failures-"

"Alarak, the Ihan-rii have already shifted things to them."

Alarak's eyes flashed. Psionic energy built up in the air behind him. It would be so easy to kill her, he reflected. It would generate outrage throughout the Tal'darim, from the highest ascendant to the lowliest thrall, but that might be a burden worth bearing.

"Alarak, surely you can recognise the threat they poise."

"Really? And what threat do they present to us?"

"Because they _are _us."

Alarak's eyes dimmed, and the energy crackling from around his body diminished.

"They are us," Ji'nara repeated. "Or at least, us, as we were under the likes of Amon. Under Ma'lash, and every highlord who preceded him."

Alarak scoffed.

"Have you not commented that fanaticism was the Tal'darim's greatest strength?"

"Perhaps."

"Then you see the Ihan-rii for what they are. Us. What we were. Is it any wonder then, that they seek to bring us harm?"

"They seek to bring us harm because they're delusional."

"And?" Ji'nara asked. "They've already brought us harm. They've laid waste to an entire world, and are either so mad they believe they can withstand the Dominion's counter-attack, or are so confident that they will stand their ground. And if they do stand their ground, what then?"

Alarak remained silent. He wanted to quip that the Tal'darim would simply finish off whatever Ihan-rii the terrans failed to kill. But he didn't. Ji'nara was serious. And at least right now, he couldn't fault her for that. Even if her fears were misguided, her loyalties weren't.

_Oh to have you here Artanis. I'm sure you'd find something inspiring to say. _He glanced out the window again. "I wonder," he mused, "how the Ihan-rii regard our…ugh, _brothers_. The Daelaam, and the kindreds who dwell under Artanis's hand."

"I cannot say, highlord. Though I can make efforts to gather intelligence."

"Then do so," he snapped. "Make yourself useful again and do so. Whatever targets the Ihan-rii pick, I want to know. Their battle tactics, their numbers, their goals – I want to know them as well as the Ihan-rii do. My blades have tasted the blood of a god who enslaved us, and his puppet who lied to us, and I do not intend to fall to fanatics who make Nyon and his ilk look sane!"

Ji'nara bowed, and much to Alarak's disgust, he could see that she was enjoying this. That she, as sickening as it was, admired him. Or at least his decision.

"Of course highlord. I will direct the fleet to-"

"Good," he snapped. He returned his gaze to the window.

_I'll kill you later. Back when you've started to despise me again. Or maybe the Ihan-rii will do it for me, and you'll redeem yourself in death, and their sordid existence and yours will be removed from the equation. _

Or maybe not, he supposed. Because if nothing else, Ji'nara (who was now exiting the throne room) was right about one thing. The Ihan-rii _were _the Tal'darim. They were them as they had been throughout almost the entirety of their existence. Protoss who worshipped the xel'naga as surely as they had worshipped Amon, and just as useless. And as he himself had said, fanaticism was a weapon in of itself. Fanaticism, or at least the potential for it, had been in the hearts of every protoss since even before the Aeon of Strife. Question was, could he harness a new form of fanaticism against the Ihan-rii? Could his people survive?

And, most importantly of all, could he?

* * *

_A/N_

_So, the Ihan-rii..._

_I've got to say that as far as the concept goes, I'm mixed. Like, as an idea, I like them - that protoss would still be worshiping the xel'naga. Plus, their aesthetic is kind of neat._

_On the other hand, aren't the Ihan-rii really just "Tal'darim 2.0?" The Tal'darim develop a society in isolation from the Khalai and Nerazim, worship Amon, and are regarded as fanatics, before turning their back on Amon. The Ihan-rii develop in isolation, worship the xel'naga, and are regarded as fanatics as well. They're basically just the Tal'darim, only one step behind in the 'path to enlightenment.' Plus, there's the whole Tyrador IX storyline in the skin lore. The fact that we don't know the outcome of the battle aside, this is something that has to inherently change the status quo within the setting, even if we don't know how. And probably won't for quite awhile, if ever._

_Anyway, drabbled this up. Because at the very least, the Ihan-rii skins gave me the excuse I needed to write for Alarak again, which is always fun._


End file.
